one of those days
by Ju5t An0th3r H3d63h06
Summary: you know, the days that begin with a phone call at six thirty in the morning and end with you falling asleep on the shoulder of a cute stranger. —yet another coffeeshop au. human!verse, silvaze, oneshot. first person Blaze.


**a/n: Been a while since I stepped out of my comfort zone, aka the Pokémon fandom, but hey, why the heck not? Besides, every fandom should have its own coffeeshop AU. And also Lux Rei may or may not have annoyed me to oblivion. **

**Fair warning, I don't like this because ooc and badly written ending and even worse-er grammar. Don't kill me please okay.**

**Disclaimer: Do I look like I own a supersonic blue blur? I think not.**

* * *

one of those days

* * *

I know it's gonna be one of those days as soon as I push open the door.

For one, Cream is freaking out.

Cream never freaks out. Only two things can shake my partner in coffee-mixing crime out of her carefree disposition: the morning rush and Tails. Judging from this crowd, it's probably the morning rush.

I weave my way through the crowd, which is mostly iPod-clutching college students here for breakfast, and join Cream at the counter. Even panicky, she's still a good worker, which is why she's mixing an iced coffee as she babbles to me.

"Blaze, thank God you're here. I pulled a double shift this morning because Amy went all the way to Emerald City, I think her mom broke something and had to go to the emergency room so she called in this entire week and dashed and of course Sonic went with her because well, she's _Amy_, and now everyone has to take turns to cover the shifts they left, and today was my turn and I fell back because I was tired out from my regular early shift, and I'm sorry I called you because I know you have classes today, and-"

"Cream." I give her my best Glare of Death ™ in the hope that she'll stop the verbal diarrhea. She doesn't get the hint, so I add, "My ears are bleeding."

Cream halts mid-sentence and looks at me, brown eyes woeful. "Sorry, Blaze…babbling again, huh?"

I stifle a grin despite myself. "Cream, just relax. Let me get my uniform from the back and I'll help you out. It's okay."

Cream's eyes light up. "You'd do that for me?"

"Course." I shrug. "You helped me out with math last week, the least I can do is bail you out of this mess. Classes be damned," I add as an afterthought.

Cream grins and hugs me before I have time to protest. "Thank you, Blaze!" I notice she's almost back to her regular self as she rings up the next order, so I dip into Café au Lait's pathetic excuse for an employee room to change.

I dump my button-covered messenger bag in a corner and whip my long purple hair into a high ponytail before yanking on a brown uniform shirt and pinning my employee name tag to it. (For a second, I contemplate crossing out the neatly printed 'Cat' on the name plate with a permanent marker and replacing it with 'Blaze', but Cream needs help and where the heck would I find a permanent marker in a tiny room full of lockers, anyway?) When I emerge, clad in full employee glory, Cream is spiraling whipped cream onto a hot chocolate, so I take register duty with a "Welcome to Café au Lait, what can I get for you?"

* * *

Usually, I'm in my element here. Though I'd probably be murdered by my fellow baristas if I admitted it—mostly by Shadow, who despises morning _anything_—the morning rush carries a certain thrill for me. I can actually be fast without accidentally being counterproductive. But today, I'm just not feeling it. I'm practically flying as I try to get orders done quickly and right, but it seems like every time we finish with one person, five more walk into the store. By the time we're down to a remotely normal amount of people, my ponytail is hanging limply and I'm blowing strands of purple hair out of my face every five seconds. Meanwhile, Cream has lost one of her hair bows.

The petite pastel-haired girl mutters something not repeatable in polite society as she scans the coffee-colored floor for any sign of the white hair ornament. I finish off the last few orders while she looks and slump against the counter, thankful for a moment of peace.

It's only been an hour, yet I feel like I've been hit by a truck and landed face first on a pile of bricks. I can't figure out why, until I remember the all-nighter I pulled for an English paper due this week and realize that I'm running on exactly one hour and twenty-five minutes of sleep. In my defense, though, this wasn't how the morning was supposed to go. I was supposed to get a coffee, walk to Central City College, stay semiconscious through my morning classes, then go home and sleep for seven hours and thirty-five more minutes. I wasn't supposed to get a frantic call from Cream at six thirty in the morning involving "help", "café", and "Amy Rose"—the only three words my sleep-deprived brain could pick out. How she managed to pull "The Face" on me over a cell phone, I have no idea.

Lost in my thoughts, I miss the telltale jingle of the bell attached to the café's door. By the time it registers, someone's already using my ponytail as an impromptu armrest.

"Whoa, Cream, nice vocabulary."

The orange-haired boy's blue eyes glitter with mirth as he listens to Cream's muttered stream of expletives.

Cream whips around mid-swear and turns as red as a stoplight. "Hi, Miles," she mumbles, staring at the floor like it's the most interesting thing she's seen all day.

I exhale heavily and remove the unwanted arm from my head. "You're late, Tails. Again."

"Whaaat?" Tails' expression changes from amused to horrified in the space of a millisecond. "But I ran all the way here!"

"Only you could make that possible," I say drily. "Now go change into your uniform. Cream's off-duty."

"That's not fair, Cat!" complains Tails, but he dutifully trudges to the back room anyway. "And stop calling me Tails!" he adds through the door.

"You stop calling me Cat, maybe I'll stop calling you Tails," I grumble. Tails is pretty much my younger brother, which gives him license to pester me. But not too much, or I'll put him in a headlock like I did last time.

(…Yeah. Long story.)

Cream snickers at this, then returns to freaking out.

"Agh, that was so embarrassing! I can't believe he heard that…"

"YOU can't believe it?" demands Tails as he returns, now in uniform. "I just learned a bunch of new vocabulary words, thanks to you!"

"I bet you knew all those swears already!" protests Cream.

"No, I didn't!" retorts Tails. "I'm the victim here!"

I heave a sigh as the two start arguing—really, I've done way too much sighing this morning—and head for the frappe machine.

I need coffee.

Not any ordinary coffee, either. Only a Fit of Insanity will do.

* * *

The Fit of Insanity is somewhat of an urban legend in this café. Rumor has it that after one too many people called Rouge "Rogue"—misreading her given name—she decided she needed something to keep her from snapping. So she took the tallest cup available and shoved it under the latte machine, dumped in an extra shot of espresso, sprayed an obscene amount of whipped cream atop the mixture, and dumped every topping available that day on top of it. Of course, Rouge will deny everything if you ever question her directly, but I was there when she did this.

I finish making the Fit of Insanity and drizzle it with chocolate and caramel, today's toppings. But just as I'm about to stick a straw into it and inhale the whole thing, the café bell jingles.

I hate that bell. It's incredibly annoying, even more so than the sound of a Chingling's cry on loop.

(And how do I know that? Because yesterday, Tails was playing Pokémon on the ride home and decided it would be fun to annoy all the inhabitants of the Suburban. Knuckles punched him before I had the chance to, which was probably a good thing because I was the one driving. )

I snap out of my reminiscing to deliver my traditional line. "Welcome to Café au Lait, how may I help you?"

"What are you drinking?"

Startled, I look up and meet the silver eyes of a boy about my age. He blinks right back at me, running a hand through spiked silver hair.

"Uh," I respond, very coherently.

"It's cool if it's not for sale or anything," continues the boy, flashing me a sheepish grin. "I guess I'll just take a-"

"It's called a Fit of Insanity," I blurt, recovering from my shock and somewhat regaining the ability to form coherent sentences.

"Cool." The boy flicks a glance upward, and as I follow his gaze I realize he's scanning for a price on our wall menus.

"It's…not on our menu," I say, semi-apologetically. "Nobody's ever asked for one."

"Oh." The boy looks somewhat put out by this, so I turn to Tails and Cream for help.

Predictably, my fellow baristas have started arguing about something trivial. This time, it's the color of the sky. I note to myself that they'll be absolutely no help for the next ten minutes, even though it's Tails' shift and technically I am only here out of gratitude, and turn back to the counter.

"Four bucks?" I offer.

The boy digs in the pockets of what appears to be a lab coat with aqua patterns crisscrossing it and comes up with a fistful of coins.

Yep. Definitely one of those days.

"Umm. This might be a while." The boy takes off his jet-black backpack and starts rummaging through the pockets. I can tell where this is going, so I pick up another cup and make the order, catching the occasional clink of change. A few times, the clink is accompanied by a whisper of "Score!" By the time I finish, there is approximately $3.18 lying on the counter in assorted change.

I open my mouth to say three bucks. Mysteriously, the words "It's on the house" come out.

"Yay!" The silver-haired boy cheers, childlike.

"You're welcome." I quirk a smile.

"Thanks tons!" The silver-haired boy grins widely as he glances at my name tag. "Your name's Cat?"

I wince and wonder yet again what my parents were thinking when they named me. "Call me Blaze."

"I'm Silver!" The aptly-named Silver grins at me, eyes sparkling, and I wonder whether it was such a good idea to give him coffee. He's got enough energy as it is. Case in point: by the time I finish that thought, he's at the door. "'Bye, Blaze!"

"Hmm, he's cute," says Cream from behind me, apparently having finished her argument about the sky's color. Briefly, I wonder who won, considering the choices were pink and orange and the sky right now appears to be blue.

"What?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Oh, nothing!" says Cream cheerfully. "I'm leaving for class, bye now!" she adds as she heads to the back room to ditch her uniform.

"Whaaat?" cries Tails. "Why? You're supposed to stay and help!"

"I pulled triple shifts this morning," says Cream, glaring at him. "I'm going to class and then to sleep."

"Okay, okay…" Tails pouts slightly.

I stifle the urge to roll my eyes. "Tails. It's YOUR shift."

"I don' wanna be stuck with Blaze!" wails the orange-haired boy theatrically, clinging to Cream, who flushes brilliant red as a result.

"Oh, brother," I say under my breath as I head to the counter, taking a sip of my now-melted Fit of Insanity. It's disgusting. I shudder and toss it, past caring about the fact that I just (hypothetically) wasted four bucks.

* * *

The afternoon rush hits the café, and I start regretting not downing my coffee when I had it, melted as it was. Thankfully, Tails becomes productive for an hour and takes orders while I, in my half-dead stupor, work the coffee machine like a robot. I decide that I will never pull an all-nighter again. Even the counter feels like a cushion to my tired head. Maybe I'll just lean on it for ten minutes. Ten…minutes…

"Hey. Blaze."

Sleep. I just need sleep. Go away, voice.

"Is she okay?" My sleep-deprived brain can't remember who the voice belongs to. Probably someone important.

"Yeah. Sleeping is one of Blaze's most honed skills. You think she's awake and listening to you, then bam! You realize she's been sleeping against that wall."

Now _that_ voice I recognize. I struggle back into consciousness. "Shut up, Tails," I groan, then: "Ugghh. Light. Why."

Someone laughs, and I look up. It's the hyper silver-haired guy.

"…Silver…?" I mumble, my words muffled by my pillow.

Wait a second. I don't have a pillow.

I sit straight up.

…I wasn't sitting, either. And that definitely wasn't my coat that just fell off my shoulders.

Silver grins at me, eyes sparkling. "Hi again, Blaze!"

I reply with something that is supposed to be a "hi" but comes out more like "gweh" as I examine my makeshift bed. Someone has moved me from my napping spot on the counter into a chair at one of the corner coffee tables. The same someone has also provided me with a familiar-looking black backpack as a pillow and given me their coat in lieu of a blanket. Gradually, I put two and two together and realize that some stranger I barely know just let me sleep for an extra three hours on top of their stuff.

"Um. Thanks," I mumble awkwardly in Silver's direction, hurriedly picking up his lab coat thing and shoving it into his hands while simultaneously trying not to turn ten different shades of red.

"No problem!" replies the silver-haired male, oblivious to Tails' smirk in my direction as he puts his jacket back on.

An awkward silence falls over us. The café's pretty much empty at this point; no one is walking in at four in the afternoon. The third rush is the late-nighters from eight to ten, who either stay for the free Wi-Fi or hold long-winded conversations with you while you're trying to work. Tails has ditched me on my own to go do his job, which I suppose I should be doing as well except for the fact that I'm useless at the moment.

Silver's asking me something. I snap out of it. "Uh…sorry, what?"

"I was wondering," replies Silver, looking highly amused, "if you wanted me to walk you home or something."

"Uh…" I panic slightly. Stranger I've never met before today asking to walk me home (sure he's cute, but that's beside the point) versus walking home alone and possibly passing out on the street of exhaustion: which one sounds more appealing?

Luckily, someone else makes my decision for me. Rouge pushes open the door of Café au Lait and heads straight for the back room to change into her uniform, addressing me with her usual bluntness as she does so.

"Hey, Blaze. Pulled an all-nighter, didn't you?"

I sigh heavily. "Is it that obvious?"

"Yep." Rouge pops the 'p' and smirks at me. "Go to sleep. And if I catch you going home alone, I'll sic Knuckles on you."

"That's what _she _said!" declares Tails from across the café. Several patrons snicker, and I bite back a few swear words as I glance back at Silver, hoping he hasn't heard.

Unfortunately for me, he has.

His laughter is incredibly contagious, I've noticed.

Tails comes over with an armful of empty cups. "Stop laughing. You're scaring people."

Naturally, this doesn't help any. We just crack up even harder.

Rouge raises an eyebrow from her spot at the counter. "Go home, Blaze. Sleeplessness is contagious."

Silver wipes a tear from his eye, grinning, and salutes the bleach-blond girl. "Will do!"

"You're not Blaze," deadpans Rouge to him as she kicks us both out of the café.

* * *

So there we are, standing in the middle of the sidewalk. It's nothing short of freezing, and my breath comes out in little puffs as I trail him to the train station. Silver chats aimlessly about nothing as we walk; I give him monotone responses because my brain is incapable of processing anything besides simple commands.

"Do you usually work at Café au Lait?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Any particular reason?"

"It pays well for a coffee shop and I need to buy food."

"Oh, sorry, that was a bit stalker-ish…I was just wondering 'cause it seems like a pretty awesome place to work-"

"Except if you just literally stayed up all night."

"Ooh. Rough. Yeah, that happened to me once, but I ended up staying awake for 64 hours on end because of the amount of caffeine I imbibed. Translating is incredibly hard to do when the words swim in front of you like little fishies."

"You're a language major?"

"Yep! I want to be a translator when I grow up."

"When you…_grow up?"_

Just as I'm beginning to wonder if Silver is secretly five years old, Central Station comes into view in all of its airport-like glory. Stepping into the heated structure is making me sleepy again, though, and I barely remember taking out my train pass and swiping it through the scanner. I also kind of don't register the train arriving, or us boarding it, or Silver finding me a seat and letting me lean on his shoulder to sleep again.

Until I do register everything and shoot straight up for the second time today.

Silver laughs. "Relax, I'll wake you up when it's your stop." His brow furrows slightly in confusion. "Err….what stop do you get off at, exactly?"

"Angel City," I say through a massive yawn.

Silver grins. "Angel City it is."

I lean back against his shoulder and allow myself to drift off to the gentle hum of the speeding train.

* * *

For one of those days, this hasn't been so bad.

* * *

FIN.


End file.
